


Maybe Loving You Is Not Scary At All

by prayfortae



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Eddie Lives, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff, Foul Language, Horror, M/M, Mutual Pining, Romance, Thriller, hints of trauma and abuse, lots of fluff, mention of divorce, near-death, stan still dead tho sorry, suppressed homosexuality, this is what Richie Tozier deserves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-26 01:36:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20734094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prayfortae/pseuds/prayfortae
Summary: Richie Tozier returns to Derry after twenty seven years and meets the Losers once again. When he reunites with Eddie, his feelings for him return— so how is he going to deal with this, especially with the reappearance of a demonic clown?OrIt Chapter 2 in Richie Tozier’s pov except there’s new stuff and I fixed the ending





	Maybe Loving You Is Not Scary At All

**Author's Note:**

> Heavily inspired by It Chapter 2 but I did add some new stuff, edit some movie dialogue and changed the ending completely. This is what Eddie and Richie deserve. Enjoy!

They‘re seated at the round table in Jade of Orient, chattering away whilst chewing on less than authentic Chinese food. Okay, Richie couldn't tell who all these people were before he walked in but now the memories all came crashing to him like a tidal wave.

He remembers it all— Derry, The Losers' Club, the clubhouse, the well-house, that thing, Ben, Bill, Bev, Stan, Mikey, Eddie.

_Eddie? _Richie looks over at Eddie, who is laughing loudly at something Bev said and is currently choking on his drink. Richie thinks hard about his memories from twenty seven years ago and wonders if he was always this small and frail.

"I heard you got married, Eddie?," Someone asks, Richie doesn't really care who.

Eddie hums something and swallows the noodles in his mouth. "Oh, yeah, I did."

Richie doesn't want to stare, it would be weird. Instead, he looks around at the others and glues his eyes at Ben— _what the fuck? When did he get so hot?_

"Living the married life," Ben jokes with a hearty laugh. "Sounds miserable."

"Hey!," Eddie whines with a familiar high pitched tone. "Just so you know, my wife makes great meatloaf."

Bill nearly spits out his iced tea. "That's all you have to say about the woman you married? _Meatloaf?_"

Eddie blinks and looks away. "Well, yeah. I like her meatloaf."

Richie doesn't mean to stare, really, but he can't keep his eyes off Eddie. Was he always so thin, so boney? He wonders if he’s been eating well, if his so called wife really is taking care of him.

Eddie is chowing down dumplings as if he hasn’t eaten them for a thousand years. His cheeks are puffed roundly. Richie has the urge to poke the soft skin or maybe press his face to together and squish those cheeks to his utmost delight.

"Richie?," Eddie asks suddenly. "Why are you staring?"

_Huh? _Richie was a thousand percent sure that he isn’t fucking staring at Eddie. He is just observing, taking in his forty year old figure. Yeah, that's it.

Still, Richie panics. Eddie is staring at him and now everyone at the table is too. He gulps and puts on a grin. Somehow, he can't think of a decent answer. Think, _idiot_, think of something to say.

"Oh, uh," Richie ignores the way his palms sweat. "Was just thinking about how good it felt to fuck your mom—"

"Really, dipshit?," Eddie throws a dumpling at Richie. "You're disgusting. Fuck you, man."

Richie laughs and dodges the dumpling. He smiles at the way Eddie pouts angrily.

"Same old jokes?," Eddie grumbles. "And I thought a professional comedian like you would think up something new."

_Oh_. Richie raises a brow at that. He is pretty sure that nobody in this table knows of his profession. Eddie avoids eye contact.

"You're a professional comedian?," Mikey asks and almost chokes on his food. "You? Really?"

"Fuck you, Mikey," Richie nudges Miley with his elbow. "My comedy is world class. I believe Eddie here thinks so too."

"The fuck are you talking about," Eddie screams, his little hands balled into fists.

"Didn't know you were a fan," Richie smirks and pretends to scribble on a table napkin. "Want my autograph? Or maybe you'd want my di—"

Eddie throws another dumpling and it hits one of Richie's lenses. He whines about being blinded and Eddie rolls his eyes instead of apologizing like every other decent human being would. Still, he finds it endearing.

Richie doesn't know how to describe what happened next but— well, shit happens. Suddenly there are fortune cookie bug things crawling everywhere, Mikey smashing the glass table with a chair and Eddie screaming like a tone deaf choir boy.

And Stan is fucking dead.

All the memories aren’t back yet, in fact they’re spotty. But Richie remembers Stan. He remembers the scars on his face and that thing in the sewer sucking on his cheeks like it was straight out of some porno.

But nobody is given time to mourn because suddenly, there was that clown. Pennywise. It is back to hunt them down.

Richie immediately backs out at Mikey's suggestion. So what if people die? Dying is natural, not even he could stop something like that. After all, he has a prospering career. Why would he waste it on some god damn clown?

Eddie agrees with him, Richie guesses by the way he walks away from a distressed Mikey. He wonders if he should offer Eddie a lift before he remembers that he, like everyone else, brought his own car to Derry.

Richie stares at Eddie's car and watches him drive away. Only then does he head towards the town's inn.

"God damn it!," Eddie screams and tugs on his hair the moment they enter the inn. "Coming back here was a mistake!"

A small voice in Richie's head tells him that meeting Eddie— The Losers' Club is not at all a mistake. But he can’t help but agree.

Richie is shoving things in his bag when Ben abruptly enters his room. The door slams loudly behind them.

"You have to stay," Ben announces in a decisive tone.

Richie almost says something about Ben's newfound hotness being annoying but swallows those words like a fat pill in his throat. He shuts his luggage and turns around.

"I'm not staying here just to fucking die," Richie slings the bag over his shoulder and storms forward. "Get out of my way."

Ben doesn't speak until Richie is right next to him. "If you leave, how are you going to tell Eddie?"

Richie freezes and suddenly his shoes are rooted to the wooden ground. His fingers shake as he holds his bag's strap. He barely keeps it together, palms sweating again.

"What the fuck are you saying," Richie's voice turns to a whisper. "Let me leave."

Ben grabs Richie's arm. His grip is tight but not menacing. "Listen, I don't remember much but there is clearly something going on between you and Eddie."

Richie has the urge to crawl inside his own skin. "Look at you, acting all tough because you're so _hot_ now. Maybe if I fuck your mom—"

"Enough with the mom jokes," Ben snaps in a stern tone Richie has never heard from him. "If you're going to deflect everything with humor, at least think of some new stuff."

_Well damn_. Richie did not come here to die but neither did he want to get attacked by Ben of all people. He pushes Ben away and frowns at the firm muscles against his palm.

"Like I said, I don't think of my own material," Richie taps one of Ben's boobs. Eddie's _Ha, I knew it!_ echoes in his mind. "Besides, what would there be between me and Mama's boy?"

Ben doesn't say anything but Richie is bothered by the way he looks at him. It was like there was something he knew. He can almost hear _It_'s voice taunting him, _It_’s words looping over and over again like a broken record.

Richie nearly hyperventilates. He could feel his chest tighten. Behind Ben, he sees a red balloon floating behind him. It was distorted to show _It_'s face squeaking as he cackles menacingly.

"Don't touch the other boys, Richie," _It_ sang and danced around in the air. "Or he'll know your secret."

A flashback hits Richie hard, so much so that it nearly knocked him off his feet. Suddenly he’s standing in Derry's park, in front of a wooden bench where the himself of twenty seven years ago wept alone.

"_Your dirty little secret_."

When Ben calls out in worry, Richie realizes he’s on the ground. "Hey Rich, you okay?"

Richie takes a deep breath. He’s back in his inn room, no more cackling red balloon present. He slaps Ben's hand away and stands up on his own. "Just let me leave. I won't survive another minute in this fucked up town."

"But if you leave," Ben insists. "It will follow."

"I know," Richie sucks in a breath and turned around. "But if I'm going to die, it won't be here in Derry."

Ben is starting to give up on convincing him, at least that’s what Richie thinks until he shielded his body with his door. His arm veins throb underneath the thick muscles. What the fuck.

"You heard Mikey, didn't you?," Ben's tone is softer, almost sympathetic. "This town is different. The farther you are, the more you forget."

Richie almost says something about how he'd rather forget everything that transpired the moment he stepped foot in Derry but somehow, he can’t. Leaving meant he would forget everyone again, most importantly— Eddie's face is displayed in his mind, at the very top of a shelf of trophies with multiple spotlights pointing at it, brighter than even the largest golden award in his grasp.

_Eddie_ — Richie's mind screams at him unwillingly — _You can't forget Eddie. Not again_.

It’s all so stupid— so god damn stupid. And Richie isn’t talking about that thing that decided to take form in his worst fear, that thing that has been crawling in all seven of their veins for the last twenty seven years.

No. Richie meant him. Eddie— stupid little Eddie with his small figure. Stupid Eddie who now gas the right height for him to place his chin on the crown of his head. Stupid Eddie and the way he abuses his inhaler, even though he knows that he never had asthma in the first place.

Stupid— so _idiotic_. Richie didn't even think of Eddie for the last twenty seven years so why was he feeling this way now? Why was he so afraid to leave and forget him all over again?

"And you don't want to forget," Richie honestly forgot that Ben was still there until he spoke. "Right, Richie?"

Richie grunts loudly. He punches the wall several times before he screams in both fear and frustration. Ben just watches him silently from the door, his gaze boring into the back of his head.

"Fuck man," Richie whispers in realization, forehead pressed to the wall. "So that's why you're still here, huh? Afraid to lose Bev again?"

Ben doesn't say anything but the way the floor creaks loudly under his feet is telling. Richie keeps his face on the wall, even after he hears the door creaking open and Ben walking away.

It takes a few minutes to compose himself but Richie eventually comes downstairs with the bag still slung over his shoulder. The moment he reaches the last step, he hears Bev and Ben's muffled voices.

And that's how Richie learns that it doesn't matter, Derry or not, because all seven of them were destined to die anyway. Now there were loads of information being thrown at him, how Bev is now some kind of seer, some shit about tokens and having no other choice but to face that fucking clown again.

Richie finds one solution— alcohol. He sits at the inn's bar after everyone leaves to find their tokens and figures there was more than enough time to spare for an already dead man like him. The gin burns as it flows down his throat. He slams the bottle onto the table and sighs.

"Fuck this," Richie wiped his lips with the back of his hand. "If I'm going to die, I'd rather drown in alcohol than be killed off by some demonic clown."

"That doesn't seem practical at all."

Richie blinks and turns around. Eddie is walking down the stairs whilst shaking his inhaler in his hand. He stares for a while at the way he scrunches his nose in a soft sniffle and really, he doesn't mean to be so intruding.

"You should be looking for your token," Richie looks away and swishes the gin in its bottle.

"Didn't know where to look," Eddie's voice is closer. He sniffles again. "And I figured you'd need company."

Panic starts to set in. Richie drums his fingers and hears Eddie plop his ass on the chair right next to him. He grabs a shot glass and lightly hits the gin bottle with it.

"Give me some of that shit," Eddie demands a bit aggressively.

Richie does the first thing that pops up in his already fucked up head and throws both of his legs over Eddie's lap. Eddie chokes on air and nearly drops his shot glass.

"It's me," Richie smirks. "I'm shit."

Eddie rolls his eyes and slaps Richie's knees. He snatches the gin bottle and pours it into his own shot glass. Richie watches him down the shot in one gulp and stares at how his Adam's apple bobs up and down.

Somehow, this intimacy is familiar. Richie regains another memory and visualizes the two of them plopped over one another on the hammock in Ben's makeshift clubhouse. They were the same, legs tangled and all, minus the alcohol and overwhelming fear of death creeping in their blood.

When Eddie slams the shot glass on the table, Richie looks away. "Take your legs back, they're heavy."

"Only if you say please, Mama's boy," Richie replies without much thought.

Eddie tosses Richie's legs off his lap this time. Richie doesn't say anything for a while and reaches for the gin bottle, only to realize that Eddie was chugging down the whole thing.

Richie quickly takes the bottle back before Eddie can give himself alcohol poisoning. "Shit, man. Something on your mind?"

Eddies eyes the gin bottle but doesn't attempt to snatch. He sighs and stares down at his shot glass. "Yeah... but it doesn't seem to be in yours."

Bile rises in Richie's throat and he nearly barfs on the spot. He clasps a hand over his mouth, the sudden anxiety in his system confusing him.

"Am I supposed to know what that means?," Richie asks in an attempt to be sarcastic but ends up sounding curious.

Eddie stares, his grip tight around the shot glass. It's a familiar look, one of both fury and disappointment, a common gaze he would give Richie from time to time. This time however, it bothered Richie.

"Tell me what you remember," Eddie finally says after what felt like hours. "About Derry, The Losers' Club and..."

As Eddie trails off, Richie thinks hard until his brain starts to hurt. "You broke your arm in the well-house. Bev stabbed _It_ before we could get eaten."

Eddie frowns. Richie figures that memory was a bad one for him and regrets mentioning it. "What else?"

Richie thought hard again, only because Eddie wanted him to. "Fuck, my head hurts. Uh, Ben made a clubhouse for us underground."

This time, Eddie's expression lights up. He leans forward. "And?"

Really, Richie would tell Eddie if he actually did remember but the memories from back then were like faded film. Still, the way Eddie stared at him in anticipation bothered him.

"I don't know, Eddie," Richie sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "I honestly don't remember shit."

Eddie's expression falls. He mumbles something under his breath and looks away. Richie hates that because he can tell how disappointed Eddie was and if he could, he would jump into the caverns of his mind and pull out whatever he wanted him to remember.

Richie is pissed. Eddie is upset and he can’t do anything about it.

"I figured," Eddie shrugs and spins the shot glass in his hand. "Don't worry, it was nothing... yeah, that's what it was. Nothing."

That leaves Richie in utter confusion. _You know I'd tell you if I did remember_; is what he almost says. His throat closes on him, however, and he ends up choking on air.

Richie soothes his throat and takes a sip from the gin bottle. He reaches for Eddie's shot glass and pours some gin into it quietly.

"Rich," Eddie says and takes the shot glass. "You're a liar."

Richie sets down the bottle and scrunches his eyebrows. "What the fuck does that mean?"

Eddie laughs dryly and downs the shot in one gulp. "I can tell, you know. The jokes you make yourself are more... _you_. Whoever writes for you isn't as funny."

For a moment, Richie's mind shuts down. His next words come without much thought. "Just ask for my autograph, Mama's boy."

"Fuck you," Eddie finally cracks a grin. He shakes his head and sighs. "I'm serious, you know? I may not have remembered you back then but... I just knew? That I had to watch your show."

Butterflies flutter inside Richie and damn was it hard to ignore how he felt tingles in his whole body. He clears his throat awkwardly and stares at the gin bottle.

"And it really helped me a lot," Eddie breaths. His tone is familiarly genuine. "Whenever I had a rough day, I'd tune in to watch you and I just— felt better. God, that's so weird. I didn't even know it was you, Rich."

_Oh god, oh fuck_. Richie finds it difficult to compose himself. He takes a deep breath and faces Eddie, who still has his gaze glued to the empty shot glass.

"Even if I don't," Richie air quotes with his fingers. "Write my own material?"

"Please," Eddie scoffs. "Delivery makes a shit ton of difference. Anything you say could be funny."

_Fuck_. Richie swears that his heart does cartwheels in his chest. Suddenly, a memory hits him hard. They are back in the clubhouse, his younger self on the hammock with a comic book in hand. Across him, Eddie complained about the spiders and ants.

And Richie hears himself think, about how cute Eddie is when he squeaks around with complaints. He hears himself speak and realizes that he had such a fucked up voice back then. He calls out to Eddie with a familiar name—

"Eds," Richie says, suddenly short of breath. He lets out a loud laugh. "You hated that nickname so much."

Eddie's eyes widen and he looks at Richie almost hopefully. Then he frowns and the way he pouts in disapproval is just— so weirdly cute.

"I told you not to call me that," Eddie whines and reaches for the gin bottle. "Rich, give me the shit."

"Nu-uh," Richie smirks and raises the bottle high above him. "Not until you admit that Eds is a suitable name for someone as short as you."

"Asshole," Eddie mumbles and still reaches for the bottle.

Again, the intimacy is familiar. Richie does his best to swallow his anxiety as he continues to tease Eddie. He raises the bottle higher and higher over his head and laughs at Eddie's loud swearing.

Only then does Richie realize their current position. Eddie gas both of his knees at each side of his thighs. Their chests are pressed together. Richie looks up and the tip of his nose brushes the crook of Eddie's neck.

Richie blinks and he's back to 1989. He sees young Eddie frowning over him, squirming as their legs tangled together in the hammock. It’s Ben's clubhouse again but there was nobody else with them.

Eddie says something about Richie being a dipshit for not moving. Richie only focuses on how close their faces are.

"Got it," Forty year old Eddie exclaims and snaps Richie back into reality. He jumps back to his seat. "Thanks, fucker."

Richie doesn't say anything for a while. He watches Eddie chug down gin straight from the bottle and finds no reason to stop him.

"This is so fucked up," Eddie slurs and wipes his mouth with the cup of his sleeve. "We can't even mourn for Stan. He was our friend, a loser like us yet—"

Eddie sighs and puts his face in his hands. Richie considers comforting him but realizes that he didn't know how. Just before he could think again, Eddie stands up suddenly and makes Richie jump in his seat.

"That's it, Rich!," Eddie exclaims with a big grin. "We're sorry ass losers!"

"Couldn't be more obvious," Richie laughs at how Eddie hops in place. "Your point?"

"Thanks, you piece of shit," Eddie slams his palms on the table and leans in. Richie backs away a bit. "I know where my token might be now."

"You're welcome?," Richie replies in confusion.

With that, Eddie walks out of the inn while screaming something close to a good luck asshole. Richie has no idea how he actually helped but seeing the smile on Eddie's face was more than enough of a reward for him.

Richie drives around Derry after drinking what was left of the gin. He wanders aimlessly and finds himself standing in front of the town's now closed down arcade store. Chills instantly run up his spine and he ponders whether going in there was a good idea.

"Damn it," Richie hisses to himself. "I hate this fucking town."

There's a hole through the arcade store's glass doors. Richie puts his hand through it and warily unlocks it. He walks in and looks around at the decaying machines and dusty, once a place full of life now looks so dead.

Richie finds a token. He has another flashback, the memory hits him in full HD. It was like he was standing right there, at that moment in 1989. There he was, his maybe twelve year old self with Bowers' jackass of a cousin.

It doesn't take much for Young Richie to run out in tears. Richie follows and ends up in that cursed park again. He stares at his weeping figure and reaches out to comfort himself. His hand goes through his head.

"We didn't have to go through this," Richie whispers. "There's nothing wrong with the way we are."

Of course, Young Richie doesn't hear him but Richie hopes that he does in some way. His memories of all this— the prejudice, the way he feels— it was all coming back slowly.

Richie realizes why he felt so empty after the move. This part of himself, along with most of his childhood memories, were left behind in Derry.

A gust of wind blows. Richie blinks and turns out he's seated in the exact place his younger self was. He looks around and realizes he is back in the present.

Richie sighs and runs a hand through his hair. He grips the token— a literal token in his hand tightly. He ponders for a bit and wonders if he should check on Edd—

Someone bumps into Richie. He looks up with the intent of ratting the person but instead stares at how their clothes were caked with mud and blood. Only then did he realize that something was in his hand.

Richie looks down. His hands shake. It was an obituary poster with his smiling face on it. What— was he dead? What the fuck.

Then Richie hears that laugh— that godforsaken laugh. He turns around. To no surprise, there Pennywise was, floating in the air with what he thought were a thousand red balloons. Everyone in the park goes still.

Richie stares, paralyzed. Pennywise just cackles and cackles until he's on the ground. The balloons flutter away in red. His hands continue to shake, obituary poster still in his tight grip.

Pennywise cackles with a big and toothy grin. His jaw makes a slick pop as his mouth stretches. "Do you want to play a game, Richie? You like games. Like Street Fighter."

All the senses in Richie's body tells him to run as far away as possible but he's frozen. His fingers twitch as he starts to hyperventilate on the bench. Pennywise walks closer and closer and closer.

"What about truth or dare?," Pennywise sways his head from side to side. "Oh, but you never pick truth, do you?"

Richie swallows. Pennywise stands in front of him with a big grin. A tune starts to play all around Derry's park. The fucked up clown's words pass through him but one line sticks with him—

"_They'll find out your secret, your dirty little secret_."

Pennywise charges forward. Richie stumbles off the bench and runs as the two statue itself begins to move. He falls and grazes his knees on the ground.

"It isn't real," Richie whispers to himself. "Fuck— it isn't real. It isn't real!"

Richie hears the stomping statue right behind him and curls into a ball on the grass. Then everything goes still again. He feels a gust of wind blow against his figure and looks up hesitantly.

Everything is back to normal. The statue is on its pedestal. Pennywise is nowhere to be seen. Derry's citizens wander around the park aimlessly and innocently.

Richie takes a moment to catch his breath. He shakes his heads and runs both hands up his hair.

"Fuck this," Richie whispers and stumbles to his feet. "Fuck Derry. Fuck it all."

The same thoughts repeat in Richie's mind like a mantra, all the while he throws himself into his car and drives back to the inn. He slams the door open and pauses for a moment.

Bill and Bev are in front of the stairs, looking very intimate. Richie thinks about how they're both technically cheating on their significant others but the thoughts leave his mind in an instant. _Fuck, can they move?_ He pushes passed them and ignores the way they both call out to him worryingly.

"Rich, you can't leave," Ben says after he enters Richie's room again.

Richie knows this situation is familiar. He knows Ben won't leave him alone until he was sure that was going to stay. So he comes up with the best lie on the top of his head.

"Not leaving," Richie slings his bag over his shoulder. "Going to visit Stan."

Ben just stands there as Richie leaves. He figures that Ben has the idea that he once again convinced him to stay. At least this way, he would be left alone.

Richie grumbles and walks into the inn's parking lot. He pauses when he sees Eddie's car parked a few places away from his. He remembers what Mikey told them, that leaving Derry meant forgetting everything all over again.

And fuck, Richie isn’t ready to forget Eddie again. But each minute he stays in Derry is ruining him from his core. He knows that he wouldn't be able to take facing Pennywise again, especially after—

"Shit," Richie hisses and sits in his car. He hits the steering wheel with his palms. "This is so stupid."

Richie drives away and stops himself from glancing at Eddie's car. He's on the road for a while and thinks about what he told Ben before leaving. Stan— he wonders what Stan would have done in this situation.

When Richie spots the church not so far away, he decides that it won't hurt to visit it and mourn Stan, even for just a bit, even if he was going to forget.

The church is dead silent. Richie sits on one of the benches and looks up at the podium. He could still remember the bar mitzvah he attended, at how he stood up and clapped for Stan when he finally stood up to the adults belittling him, only to be pulled back down to his seat.

After a moment of thinking, Richie prays for Stan and walks back to his car. He runs a hand through his hair and sighs as he slams his forehead on the steering wheel. He wishes he was as brave as Stan was back then. Maybe, things would have been more different if—

Something vibrates in Richie's pocket. He fishes out his phone and stares at the caller ID. Bill. For a moment, he ponders whether he should answer the call or not.

Richie thinks he has nothing else to lose so he answers it anyways. "What is it?"

"R-R-Richie," Bill stutters in a panic. There are other voices in the background.

"Bill?," Richie says in confusion. He was sure that Bill no longer stuttered. "What's wrong?"

"It's B-B-Bowers," Bill's voice shakes. Richie recognizes Bev's screams from the other end. "He— broke in—"

"What? Bowers?," Richie sits up. "I thought that fucker was dead."

"Apparently not," Bill says. There's a third panicking voice and Richie freezes. "But he got in and s-stabbed Eddie."

_Huh? _Richie takes a few seconds to process Bill's words. He keeps speaking into the phone but it all became murmurs in his ears. Now he clearly hears Eddie scream in pain in the background.

"Holy sh-shit, stop the bleeding Bev!," Bill screams away from the phone. "E-Eddie's alright but Bowers got away and w-we can't reach Mikey—"

Bill's voice cuts as Richie hangs up. He tosses his phone to the ground and grunts loudly. Eddie was stabbed. He was gone for not even an hour and Eddie gets fucking stabbed.

Richie slams his forehead on the steering wheel and grits his teeth. "You're such a damn idiot, Rich. How could you think of running away again?"

Eddie's flushed face pops up in Richie's head. Then he has an image of Eddie screaming in pain and sees red, red, so much red. His knuckles grow white and tremble as he grips the steering wheel.

Richie pulls the clutch. He steps on the gas and revs across the parking lot and to Derry's main road. Bill mentioned Mikey— and finding Mikey meant finding Bowers.

He thinks and thinks until his head hurts. Richie is honestly amazed by how much thinking he's done ever since coming back. Then he remembers Mikey mentioning his research on the town—

That's it. Richie grins and drifts across the road to switch lanes. It takes about five minutes until he sees Derry's library just up ahead.

Richie wastes no time. He hears himself breathe heavily, hears his feet stomp up the stairs and into the main lobby. He sees two figures on the ground, tumbling over each other, and shards of broken glass scattered about.

Amongst the shards, there's a rusty old axe. Richie eyes it and steps closer. It's Bowers. He laughs manically with an injured Mikey pinned underneath him.

Richie's eye twitches. His hands shake and he stares at the axe again. Bowers laughs. He hears Eddie scream in his head.

"Eat this you mullet wearing _asshole_!"

A gust of wind blows. Richie sees black then red. When he comes to, Bowers is on the floor with an axe in his head.

Richie sucks in a breath and realizes that he just killed a man, Bowers or not. Dark blood pools on the floor. He hears more footsteps and Bev screams behind him.

"Mikey!," Ben walks in and pulls Mikey to his feet. "What ha— Holy shit."

"Are you okay?," Bev says between a gasp.

"Nah Bev, I just fucking killed a guy."

"I was asking Mikey."

"I'm good," Mikey says with a short breath. "Thanks, Rich."

Still frozen, Richie just nods. He stares at Bowers' body for a moment and thinks his thoughts are disgusting. How could he wish for and ultimately cause a man's death?

"Hey, don't feel bad."

Richie's ears perk. He turns around and sees Eddie standing at the very back of the crowd. There's some plaster taped on his face. Blotches of dry blood dot the collar of his jacket and shirt.

"Fucker deserved it," Eddie shrugs and scratches over the plaster. "I'm... surprised you're here. Ben said you left and, well, uh."

As Eddie trails off, Richie stares at him. He imagines Bowers' knife in his face and blamed every fiber of his being for leaving his side at such a crucial moment.

Richie glances behind him. Ben and Bev are speaking to Mikey. He glances back at Eddie, who was stood silently at the doorway. He thinks again, thinks if he should reach in and explode with questions of worry and regret.

But what would Eddie say to that? Richie fears the idea of rejection. In the middle of all this Derry shenanigans, the last thing he wanted was another heartbreak.

_Another? Why another?_ It was a distant memory that Richie still can't seem to remember. He presses a hand on his temple and groans in both frustration and pain.

"Fucking Bowers really kept a grudge on you, huh Eds?," Richie says the first thought that comes to mind and almost regrets it. "Maybe he's just jealous of—"

Richie pauses when Eddie reaches in and hugs him. His mind short circuits at the sudden warmth enveloping him. The crown of Eddie's head is just below his chin.

"You piece of shit," Eddie mumbles into Richie's shirt. "Are you stupid? Why did you leave again?"

Again. Richie knows that means something about what happened twenty seven years ago but he's so damn pissed because he can't remember anything.

"Didn't think you'd miss me," Richie whispers. His hands hover awkwardly over Eddie's back.

Eddie looks up and Richie feels his chin on his chest. His mind goes haywire and he stops himself from looking down.

"Why would I miss you?"

"Well, aren't you my number one fan?"

Eddie pouts and pulls away. Richie almost chases him but holds himself back. He clears his throat and turns around to see the other losers giving him some weird gazes.

"What?," Richie shrugs and runs a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I fucking killed Bowers and yes, I'm staying. What the fuck do we do now?"

"We find Bill," Ben announces with Mikey slung over him. "He went after Pennywise alone."

Honestly, Richie doesn't believe that a person can make the same mistake twice— so why was Bill going after Pennywise alone again? That's what he thinks the whole time on the way to the well-house.

Surely enough, Mikey's suspicions are spot on. Bill is in front of the well-house with his hand on the doorknob. Everyone trails him and the way they're positioned is strangely familiar to Richie.

While the others try to convince Bill not to be a god damn idiot again, Richie glances at Eddie. They make eye contact and both look away.

Another memory hits Richie like a brick to the face. His younger self stood in front of the well-house with Eddie next to him. They're holding hands. It feels intimate— familiar.

Richie blinks and he's forty again. He looks down and is horrified to see that he and Eddie were actually holding hands— in reality, the warmth isn’t a dream.

_Oh shit_. Richie's thoughts churn in his head and for the nth time today, he struggles to formulate words. Instead, he attempts to silently pull his hand back.

But Eddie's grip was tight. Richie's eyes widen as he stares. Eddie isn't looking at him but his hand was clasped around his tightly.

Richie hates how the heat rushes to his face. He hates how he can never be as bold as Eddie. He hates that he doesn't have the courage to hold his hand back.

"—when Richie says it," Bill's words suddenly become clear.

Richie notices that everyone is staring at him. Eddie quickly lets go of his hand. He mumbles a few familiar statements until Bill approves one of them.

Then they're in the fucking house. Richie stares at a part of the living room and sees his younger self holding Eddie's face in his hands. He's telling him to look at him, to keep his eyes on him as Pennywise goes for the kill.

Richie's head starts to hurt again. He hisses at the pain and keeps walking. Eddie stares silently from behind him.

When the door shuts suddenly, Richie jumps in place. He turns in fear of losing sight of Eddie and is relieved to see him in the room. Then he realizes that Ben, Bev and Mikey were nowhere to be seen.

Ben starts screaming from the other side. The three of them pound on the door and scream his name but to no avail. Something clatters behind them. Everyone freezes.

Richie turns around and sees the mini fridge at the corner of the room. It shakes as the door swings open and slams to the wall. Inside it is— what, what the _fuck_.

It was young Stan's fucking severed head. Richie stares as it falls to the floor and rolls until it hits something. He hears Eddie whimper a bit and steps in front of him.

"Holy shit," Bill whispers with his back flat on the door.

Stan opens his white eyes and gasps loudly. Eddie whimpers again. Richie can smell his rotten breath from the other side and chants a thought like a prayer— _It isn't real, it isn't real, it isn't_—

"Richie?," Stan says, his voice hoarse. "What's happening to me?"

"That isn't real, right Rich?," Eddie stammers behind Richie. "That's an illusion, right? Rich?"

"I'm pretty sure it isn't," Richie swallows his hear in an attempt to comfort Eddie. "But that looks fucking realistic."

Soon, Stan starts to groan. He cries in pain as something pokes from within the skin of his face. Boney legs sprout of his flesh and Stan laughs manically. All three of them are frozen.

Richie realizes that Stan's head is now a fucking spider and screams when it starts to lunge forward. He dodges it quickly and it clings to the wall.

It spits out some sort of thick saliva and both Bill and Eddie barely dodge it. Richie watches in horror as the wall sizzles. It spits as him as well and he barely rolls away.

Bill kicks the Stan head and it disappears into the darkness. Richie thinks it's over and sighs in relief until he feels sees something hot drip on Eddie's shoulder.

Richie stares at the way Eddie's shirt sizzles. He sees Bill move the flashlight to the ceiling and contemplated whether he should really look up or not. He does anyway and sees the Stan head spider on the ceiling.

It hisses and pounces towards Eddie, who is obviously frozen in fear. Richie begs for him to run in his head but the way his legs tremble was a dead giveaway.

"Eds, you idiot!," Richie stumbles to his feet. "Move your ass!"

"Richie, wait!"

Richie ignores Bill's calls and lunges over the Stan head. He barely pulls Eddie away from the thing and it crashes to the wall. They both fall to the ground.

When Richie raises his head, he's too distracted by the relief of saving Eddie. He doesn't notice the Stan head pounce at him until it's on his face.

"Richie!," Bill screams. "Hold on!"

Richie wants to rhetorically reply but is too distracted by the way Stan was snapping his teeth at him. He nearly barfed at the rotten smell from his mouth and at the sight of decaying teeth and flesh.

In the corner of Richie's eye, he spots Eddie frozen in the corner. He's staring hesitantly and his legs are still trembling. Bill is screaming at him to help.

The door slams open and the Stan head is pulled away. Richie feels the bile rise in his throat as he wipes the saliva off his face. He looks up and sees Bill pinning Eddie to the wall.

Richie stumbles to his feet with Ben's help. "Bill, I'm fine."

Bill ignores him. Richie wants to interfere, to even scream at Bill to leave Eddie alone but a part of him thinks that he has no right to do so.

"Do you want him to die?," Bill hisses through gritted teeth. "You could have at least done something."

Eddie glances at Richie, who tries to give him a reassuring gaze. He doubts whether the right message was sent or not when Eddie looks away.

"I'm sorry," Eddie whispers with a cracked voice. "I'm just— I'm scared."

A tense silence passes. Eddie lowers his head and Bill gently loosens his grip on his collar. Richie attempts to approach him but stops when he hears Bev speak.

"We're all scared, Eddie," Bev whispers and rubs her arms. "We all are."

Nothing much happens after that. Although Richie is glad, he still keeps an eye on Eddie just to male sure there wasn't a spider Stan head on his face. It takes a while but they finally reach the well.

Richie peers into the well and regains another memory. He sees Bowers fall deep into the bottom and hears his younger self scream a _Holy shit!_ How he survived was still a mystery.

When the losers reach the path to Pennywise's lair, Richie glances at Eddie. There's a scowl on his face and he's taking slow yet big steps.

Richie smiles at how disgusted Eddie still was after twenty seven years. Eddie immediately crawls to the large pile of trash in the center. Then Bev screams. She's gone.

"Bev?!," Ben screamed and thrashed around in panic. "Bev?! Where did she go?!"

"In the water!," Mikey says. "She was dragged under!"

"Shit!," Bill runs both hands through his hair and immediately dives into the sewer water.

Everyone else immediately dives after Bill. Richie stands there for a few seconds and glances behind him. Eddie is shivering on the mountain of trash with a hand over his bandaged cheek.

"I'll be right back, Eds," Richie says slowly and turns away. "I promise."

Richie dives. Eddie's screams muffle once he enters the water. He sees the vague figures of the other losers swimming around below. In the center of it is Bev, who is screaming.

Something was coiled around Bev, thick tentacles that resembled pipes. Ben pulls on it desperately. Richie reaches in to help the others and Mikey glances at him.

Before Richie can question it, Bev is pulled free. They all quickly swim to the surface. Eddie is still screaming but this time in relief.

"Oh God!," Eddie wails. "I thought you guys left me— I—"

"Eddie, relax," Ben pants with deep breaths. "We're not leaving you."

Richie was glad to save Bev, really, but he couldn't help but wonder why Eddie wouldn't leave his side after that. It's not that he didn't enjoy it— instead he was curious.

All six of them stood around the hatch. Mikey mentions that Pennywise's true lair was under there and that it was possible for them to see the most horrifying things possible.

None of them waver— except Eddie, who is already panicking. He was hyperventilating again. Richie eyes the inhaler in his hand.

"I can't do this," Eddie breathes. "Holy shit— I can't."

Richie grunts and takes the inhaler. Eddie gasps as he tosses it. "You don't need that."

"Rich—"

"Eds, listen to me," Richie grabs Eddie's shoulders. "Who stabbed Bowers through a shower curtain?"

Eddie sighs and shakes his head. "I did."

Richie smirks. "Who married a woman ten times his size?"

"Uh," Eddie frowns. "I did."

_And who effortlessly stole my heart?_ Richie almost says it but he swallows down the words. He smiles and grabs Eddie's cheeks. They're as soft as he remembers.

"See?," Richie playfully slaps Eddie's cheek. "You can do anything, Eds. Just put your mind to it."

Eddie doesn't say anything to that but the smile on his face is more than satisfying for Richie. He turns and sees the other losers giving him those weird gazes again. Oddly enough, it reminds him of Stan.

"Okay doves," Mikey says with a grin. "Time to go down the hatch."

"Doves?," Eddie scrunches his eyebrows together. "What do you mean doves?"

Richie has an idea what that means and doesn't say anything. He ignores Eddie's constant questioning and crawls down the hatch with the rest. Soon they reach what looked like an ancient ritual site.

Despite everyone's doubts and worries, they start the ritual anyway. The losers put their tokens in one by one. Richie glances at Eddie and sees him place his inhaler in the fire.

"That will take ages to burn."

"Shut up."

Richie bickers with Eddie for a bit and feels a strange sense of nostalgia. They all hold hands and start the ritual. The next bits are fucked up and hazy— there are lights, Mikey's screams to keep our eyes closed and a giant red balloon.

Some shit Richie would rather not say happens and the losers end up separated. He's more than glad to have ended up with Eddie, who is rambling nonsense out of fear.

"Rich, wait! What about the others?!"

"We'll find them, Eds! Run!"

Pennywise crashes into the rocky entrance and they both scream. Richie grabs Eddie's hand as he drags him deeper into the cave. He freezes when he sees a horrifyingly familiar sight across him.

Three doors were screwed into the rocky walls, all painted with bright red paint that eerily resembles blood. Eddie tugs on Richie's sleeve in a panic.

"Rich, don't just stand there!," Eddie hissed. "We have to go through the _Not Scary At All_ door!"

"Eds, wait," Richie raises an arm over a confused Eddie. "It's tricking us. Go through the _Very Scary_ door."

Eddie doesn't question Richie and nods firmly. Richie pulls Eddie behind him as they slowly approach the _Very Scary _door. His hand shakes as he grips the doorknob.

For a moment, Richie sees nothing but darkness. It's the interior of a closet room and a lone lightbulb swings above them. Then there are loud footsteps from far away.

Richie doesn't wait for the bloody lower half of a young girl to reach him. He shuts the door as Eddie screams in terror behind him.

"I thought it was a trick?!," Eddie wails.

"Apparently fucking not!," Richie jumps when he hears Pennywise's growls from far away.

They both lunge for the _Not Scary At All_ door and Eddie reaches for the doorknob this time. Richie sighs in relief when he sees the rest of the cave's rocky path until he hears a little bark below.

Richie stares at the Pomeranian puppy on the ground. "It's a dog."

"Nah, Rich."

"What do you see then?"

"A monster," Eddie clutches Richie's shirt. "I'm pretty sure that's some kind of monster."

"You're just saying that because you're allergic."

"Hey! I may be allergic to almost everything but dogs aren't one of them!"

"Sure. Look at it, Eds!," Richie smiles and peers down at the puppy. "It's so small and soft, just—"

_Like you_. Richie swallows those words down painfully.

"Sit boy, sit."

Surely enough, the dog sits. Both Eddie and Richie coo.

"Oh, maybe it's not a threat after all," Eddie grins. "Who's a good boy? Who's—"

In a split second, the puppy transforms into a huge skinny monster. Richie screams along with Eddie, who kicks the door shut.

"What the hell?!," Eddie grits in anger.

"Just run!," Richie grabs Eddie again and they make a dash for it.

Honestly, Richie has no damn idea where to go or if there was any place safe from Pennywise. So when he notices that the entrance is no longer blocked, he takes the risk and brings Eddie with him back to the lair.

Richie sees Pennywise— the spider version of him at least. It's facing Mikey, who's stupidly standing there as if presenting himself to be a meal. He glances at Eddie. He looks back at him with squinted eyes.

"Eds," Richie cups Eddie's cheek and smiles. "Stay here."

"Rich, wait," Eddie whispers and Richie halts. "What if— I don't want you to get hurt."

At that moment, Richie almost gives in. He almost tells Eddie that he's afraid too, afraid to leave him and have something horrible happen to him again. He was afraid to lose the opportunity to tell him how he truly felt.

But Richie had to do this. As much as he cared for Eddie, he wouldn't let one of his friends die.

"Promise me," Eddie says with trembling fists. "Promise me you'll be alright. I have something to tell you."

Richie tilts his head. He feels like he's been in this situation with Eddie before. The memory is in his head but he can't quite pull it out just yet.

"Yeah," Richie nods. "I promise. Now sit tight."

Richie turns away and screams at Pennywise. It turns from Mikey, who immediately scoots away. Then the deadlights appear. He sees white, pure white, almost like bliss.

Children laugh and scream. Richie sees everything— all that It has done for centuries, all the pain and all the suffering. Then he's back in the clubhouse. His younger self from twenty seven years ago is on that hammock.

It's played like an aged film. Eddie is there too. He's on the ground, silent. There's a shower cap on his head. Richie's younger self is reading that comic book. None of the other losers are there.

"You're boring," Eddie says suddenly with crossed arms.

Richie rolls his eyes. "There are plenty of ways to entertain yourself, Eds. Just pull out your wanger and—"

Eddie throws the shower cap at Richie, who just laughs it off. "Fuck you Rich, you're disgusting. I meant we should do something before you— you know."

"I'm just moving," Richie laughs dryly. "Don't make it sound like I'm dying."

When Eddie doesn't say anything, Richie turns towards him. There's a thick tension in the air. A silence passes for a few minutes.

"We can play Truth or Dare," Richie suggests as he stares at Eddie.

"Nah man," Eddie shakes his head. "You're a pussy. You never choose truth."

"I'm not a pussy," Richie replies a bit seriously. "There's no thrill in picking truth."

Eddie rolls his eyes. He plays with the zipper of his bag for a while. Richie eyes it and thinks about the placebos stored there.

"You really are boring," Eddie mumbles under his breath. "So, still not picking truth?"

Richie shakes his head. He closes the comic book and watches silently as Eddie rises. For the first time since they've met, he slips off his bag and gently places it on a nearby table after wiping off the dirt.

Eddie rubs his hands on his shirt. "Then I dare you to let me use the hammock, asshole."

"Never in a million years," Richie answers with a smirk. "I don't care about the rules, Eds. They're meant to be broken."

Eddie stares. He crawls onto the hammock anyways. "Don't call me Eds!"

Richie panics. He squirms as Eddie plops on top of him. The hammock swings and its wooden supports squeak in protest. His mind freezes for a few seconds.

"Move, dipshit!"

As Eddie continues to swear at him, Richie stares. He's focused on his face and the way his lips move as he rambles. His mind goes blank.

When Richie comes to, he realizes that his lips are on Eddie's. He immediately retreats and buries his face into his hands, not having the courage to see Eddie's reaction.

_Fuck, I've done it_. Richie is a thousand percent sure that he just ruined his friendship with Eddie. It's quiet. The silence is suffocating.

What else is there to lose now?

"Damn, Eds," Richie says softly and moves his hands away. "You taste like asthma meds. Do you even brush your teeth?"

"Shut up," Eddie whispers.

It takes a lot of courage but Richie looks up. Eddie had a pout on, cheeks flushed into a deep red shade. He blinks. And blinks.

"What?," Richie blinks again. His eyes are dry.

"I said shut up," Eddie puffs his cheeks. "You piece of shit."

Richie opens his mouth to answer but is cut off when Eddie leans down to kiss him. Again, he panics, his brain short circuiting.

Then Richie feels Eddie cup both of his cheeks in his small palms and he realizes the reality. _Eddie is kissing him. Eddie Kaspbrak. Kissing him._

Richie feels like a robot with the amount of information he struggles to process. How can he, when Eddie is kissing him so roughly, so hungrily.

It makes Richie think if this meant anything. As he tugs on Eddie's hair, he wonders if there was something behind this. Maybe this was Eddie's fucked up way of entertainment— yeah, maybe that was it.

Richie enjoys it either way. He chases Eddie's lips when he pulls away and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Another silence passes but it isn't as awkward.

"So," Richie puts both of his hands behind his head. "Am I still a pussy?"

Eddie puffs his cheeks again. "I hate you."

Another flash of light hits Richie and he shuts his eyes tight. He groans and realizes he's on the ground— back to his forty year old self. But the memory lingers in his head, the feeling still on his lips.

"Richie?! Richie!"

Richie looks up. Eddie is on top of him again and there's a tight smile on his face. He shakes his head. Blood seeps through the bandage of his wounded cheek.

"I did it, Rich," Eddie speaks with a smile. "I killed It. I— I killed It!"

For a moment, Richie just stares at Eddie. His next words come without much thought. "You still think I'm a pussy?"

Eddie's smile fades. He tilts his head slowly.

"Didn't think you'd do that, you know," Richie says with a grin. "But hey, I didn't complain, did I?"

It takes a while but Eddie smiles again. Tears glisten in his eyes. "You remember. Rich—"

Suddenly, Richie sees red. Something splatters on his cracked lenses. Eddie spurts out blood from his mouth. One of Pennywise's arms is stabbed through him.

"No," Richie cries. "Eddie! _No_!"

Eddie screams as Pennywise drags him up. Richie reaches for him but their fingers barely miss. He cries out his name as that fucking clown swings him around like he was god damn prize.

At one point Pennywise actually tosses Eddie into some cave. Richie wails and follows him. He dives into the narrow entrance and sees Eddie bleeding at the bottom of the stone steps.

Richie hears the others follow him. He holds both of Eddie's cheeks. "Hey, Eds. I'm alright, just like I promised."

"You didn't look too good there, Rich," Eddie laughs dryly. There's blood on his teeth. "I'm pretty sure— you're alright because of me."

When Richie feels the tears in his eyes and blinks them away. He strips off his jacket and presses it onto Eddie's wound. Everyone stares at them silently.

"Now you got to promise me something," Richie feels the blood seep through his jacket and frowns. "You're going to be fine. You'll get out of here alive.”

Eddie doesn't say anything, even when Pennywise starts clawing at the cave's entrance. There's a solemn look in his eyes.

"Damn it, Eddie!," Richie shouts with trembling lips. "Say something!"

"Richie," Ben speaks softly behind him. "We have a plan."

As the others explain the makeshift plan on how to defeat Pennywise once and for all, Richie keeps his eyes on Eddie. He's bleeding a lot. His jacket is already doused in that deep red shade.

Making Pennywise feel small— it doesn't sound like an easy task. Richie carries Eddie to the other side and lets him lean on one of the rocks. He presses the wound.

"Keep pressing it and you'll be fine," Richie mutters quickly and sees the other losers start to gather in front of Pennywise. "I'll be right back, okay?"

"Wait," Eddie's voice is small.

"Eddie?," Richie asks in worry. "What's wrong?"

Eddie doesn't say anything. Instead, he holds Richie's nape and pulls him in for a kiss. Richie jumps a bit in shock and doesn't even get to react before he's pushed away.

"I'm glad you remember," Eddie grins. "Now go get that fucking clown."

Richie grins and nods firmly. As much as he hates the idea of leaving an injured Eddie alone, he joins the other losers in fighting Pennywise. They bully the crap out of him, which is honestly hilarious, until the clown is nothing but an ugly ass baby.

Mikey steps forward and digs his hand into Pennywise's chest. Richie frowns at the putrid smell and nearly barfs at the sight of the rotting heart beating in his hand.

The heart is crushed and Pennywise disintegrates. Richie feels a huge sense of relief, as if something heavy was just lifted off his shoulders. _It_'s gone. Finally, _It's dead_.

Richie then remembers. He whisks his head around.

"Eddie!"

Panic courses through Richie's veins. He screams and runs across the rocky lair as the others follow him. Eddie still leans on the rock but his head is hung low. His heart pumps loudly in the chest.

"Hey, Eddie," Richie smiles and kneels in front of Eddie. "We did it. We won."

Eddie doesn't respond. Richie's hand shakes as he lifts his head. His gaze is empty and far away. Blood seeps through both his cheek's bandage and the jacket on his chest.

"Eddie?," Richie laughs dryly. "Hey you piece of shit, don't joke around. You promised me you'd make it out."

"Richie," Bev whispers behind him. "He's gone."

"Don't say that!," Richie pulls Eddie closer to him. "He's fine! He just needs a doctor!"

Nobody says anything for a while. Richie cries into Eddie's shoulder and trembles as he hugs him tightly. Even as the rocks start to shatter around them, he refuses to let him go.

"Richie," Bev grabs Richie's shoulder. "We have to go."

"No!," Richie screams and shakes him off. "I'm not leaving him!"

Both Mikey and Ben end up pulling Richie away. He flails and trashes as he screams Eddie's name. Rocks continue to fall around them.

"Let go of me!," Richie pleads. "Eddie! Eddie!"

"Rich?"

Everyone freezes. Eddie hacks out a dry coughing fit. His gaze is still empty but he looks up at Richie, even when the ground beneath them all shakes violently.

"Are you there?," Eddie's voice is small again. "Can't breathe."

"He's in shock," Bill says with a sigh of relief.

Richie shakes himself off Ben and Mikey's grips. He dives towards Eddie and slaps both of his cheeks. Fresh hot tears run down his face.

"Don't do that, asshole!," Richie hisses loudly and leans his head on his chest. "You scared the shit out of me."

Eddie smiles and laughs. "Guess I got you good, huh?"

"Guys?!," Mikey screams. "We really have to go now!"

Richie basically carries out of the well-house. He doesn't how he did it or how he even climbed up the well with a whole other injured person but now that Eddie was safe— that didn't matter.

The well-house crumbles to the ground. Richie watches it fall, all the while Eddie is asleep on his lap. He weeps a bit, the thought of nearly losing Eddie still lingers in his heart.

Mikey calls the ambulance. It arrives in a few minutes and Richie stays by Eddie's side as he's strapped to the stretcher and placed inside. He sits next to him and holds his hand.

Richie ignores how the nurses stare at him and kisses Eddie's hand. "You're going to be alright, Eds. Just hold on."

When they arrive at the hospital, Eddie is wheeled to the ER. Richie is told to wait outside even after he begs to see him and feels like dying in the lobby. He runs his hands up his hair anxiously.

The other losers arrive soon after. Bev runs up to Richie and sits next to him. "Where's Eddie?"

"ER," Richie answers into his palms.

Bill sits on the other side and gently places a hand on Richie's back. "Hey, man. He's going to be fine."

The thought alone makes Richie weep again. He cries into his palms, the idea of losing Eddie— it was all too much. He couldn't bear to even consider it as a possibility.

Richie feels the warmth of the other losers as they embrace him. It makes him think if they've figured out what he and Eddie had. Whatever, that no longer matters.

When a doctor comes out of the ER, the losers disperse and Richie stands up. He explains to them that Eddie is fine, that he was in shock due to the blood loss, and that he's been transferred to one of the rooms.

Richie doesn't let the doctor finish. He races across the hospital and barges into Eddie's room. He's asleep on the bed with fresh stitches on his cheek. There's a bag of blood hanging next to him with a tube attached to his arm.

The sight almost brings Richie to tears. He sits next to Eddie and stares at him for a while.

"I'm so glad you're okay, Eds," Richie breathes with a sniffle. "I don't know what I'd do if I lost you."

Eddie's still asleep so he doesn't answer. Richie leans in plants a kiss on his forehead. He sniffles again and clutches his hand tight. His lips hover above his knuckles.

"I'm so sorry that I couldn't protect you," Richie whispers into Eddie's hand. "But I'll make sure nothing happens to you now."

Richie hears the door open and turns around. The other losers are there, staring. Bev walks towards him and places a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey Rich," Bev says softly. "Can I talk to you for a bit?"

Before Richie can say anything, Ben speaks up behind her. "We'll keep watch. Don't worry."

Although Richie is hesitant, he follows Bev out of the room. She shuts the door quietly and crosses her arms over her chest. A tense silence follows.

Richie wonders why Bev called him out in the first place, especially since she was being so silent.

"So Bev," Richie shrugs and shoves his hands in his pockets. "We didn't really get to talk much, huh? How's your husband?"

Bev flinches at the mention of her husband. Richie assumes that her marriage isn't a happy one.

"Ex husband," Bev replies with both hands gripping her arms. "He's an asshole. I won't let him continue to treat me like shit."

"That's great!," Richie cheers. Bev gives him a look. "I meant you standing up for yourself, not the fact that your husband was probably like—"

"Beep beep, Richie."

Richie smiles at the familiar call out. "Sorry."

Bev sighs and looks up at Richie with a small smile. "So, tell me about you and Eddie."

"There's nothing to say," Richie answers quickly and glances at the door to Eddie's room.

"Really now," Bev chuckles and tucks a strand of her red hair behind her ear. "You two are all over each other."

"Hm," Richie shrugs. "Maybe."

"You guys are cute," Bev grins and gives Richie an awkward thumbs up. "It's about time you two got together."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You weren't exactly the best at hiding your crush on Eddie."

Richie blushes and runs a hand through his hair. He sighs and looks away. Bev stares at him with scrunched eyebrows and finally speaks after a moment of silence.

"You don't look happy?," Bev questions in confusion.

"Of course I am!," Richie explains and clears his throat. His next words come out softly. "Of course I'm happy, Bev. Fuck, I might be the happiest man on Earth. I've been in love with Eddie for decades yet—"

Richie takes a deep breath. All the feelings he harbored, all the love he has for Eddie— it was crashing into him at all once like a tidal wave. His head spins a bit.

Bev steps closer and puts a hand on his shoulder. "We all saw that kiss, Rich. Why are you so worried?"

"Bev," Richie tugs on his hair in frustration. "Eddie is married. He has a wife."

Bev raises a brow. She steps backwards and crosses her arms over her chest. "So?"

"What. Did you just say so?"

"Yeah— so? It isn't a big deal."

"Enlighten me."

It's Bev's turn to go silent. She faces the wall and exhales loudly through her nose. Richie notices the way her hands tremble as she grips her arms.

"My husband," Bev whispers. "He's— I didn't understand why I married a man like him... until I came back here."

Richie listens and leans on the wall. He nods at Bev when she glances at him for what seems to be approval.

"The moment I entered Derry, I remembered him," Bev sucks in a shaky breath. "I remembered my father."

At that moment, Richie remembers it too. Bev's asshole of a father— there are not enough words to describe him, not enough curses to damn his soul.

"Even though I forgot, I remembered," Bev says slowly with trembling lips. "I can't speak for Eddie— but I'm sure. It's the same for him."

Richie ponders for a bit. He doesn't know much about Eddie's wife, except that her name was Myra and she most probably weighs twice as much as all the losers combined. He thinks about her being like the late Mrs. Kaspbrak.

The thought makes a chill run down Richie's spine.

Before Richie could waver, the door slams open. Mikey is standing at the doorway with a small grin.

"He's awake," Mikey says simply.

Richie basically dives forward and pushes passed Mikey. He sees Eddie seated upright on the bed with a cup of water in his hands. The monitor next to him beeps in the silence.

It takes Richie a while for him to prevent himself from breaking down on the spot. He walks forward and the losers part like the Red Sea. Eddie sips his drink with closed eyes.

"Morning, Eds," Richie holds back his tears with a grin. "Did'ya see Mama in your dreams?"

Eddie looks up at Richie slowly. He passes the half-empty glass to Bill and smiles. "Hey, Rich."

Richie's grin fades. He's slightly bothered by how Eddie isn't bickering with him then he notices the smile on his face. There's something solemn about the way he looks at him.

Somehow, that expression makes it difficult for Richie to stop his tears. He dives in for a hug when Eddie opens his arms wide. The warmth is chilling yet comforting.

Eddie glances around, Richie could tell by the way his neck strained. He hears footsteps scatter and the room is suddenly empty. The door shuts quietly.

"For the record, I didn't say anything," Eddie says before Richie can speak. "All I did was look at them."

Richie nuzzles into Eddie's nape and feels him rub circles on his back. "I was so scared."

Eddie reaches into Richie's curly hair and ruffles it. "Look at you, whining like a little pussy. I'm here, aren't I?"

A silence passes as Richie lets himself melt into Eddie's warmth. He wishes he could stay like this forever.

"I can't believe that fucking clown made you remember that day," Eddie says suddenly with a chuckle. "That was before you left. I—"

Eddie trails off. Richie gently pulls away from the hug and looks up at him. His cheeks are puffed and red again. The sight makes him smile. Cute.

"I'm sorry I forgot," Richie whispers and rubs his nape.

"Eh," Eddie shrugs. "It's fine. We all forgot a lot of things."

Richie laughs and stares at Eddie. "I didn't think you'd kiss me back."

"I didn't think so either," Eddie whispers under his breath. "But things happen... I guess."

"What was that thing you wanted to tell me?," Richie asks and leans on his seat. "You mentioned something in the well-house."

Eddie's face flushes again. He holds his forehead and grumbles something under his breath. Richie doesn't hear his words but decides not to question it.

Just when Richie thinks he wasn't going to get an answer, Eddie speaks up. "I was waiting."

Richie blinks. "Waiting?"

Eddie nods and pinches the tube in his hand. Dark blood flows in blotches. "After you left Derry, I waited. When the losers left one by one— and I was left on my own— I waited for them, for _you_."

Truthfully, Richie isn't sure if he can take all this information. He imagines Eddie in his poster filled room, looking out the window patiently. He imagines the years that pass and the disappointment that came with each.

"I tried looking for you, Rich," Eddie sucks in a breath and palms his face. "I read every phone book, searched the net— Fuck man, did you know there are a hundred other Richie Toziers in the world? That's messed up."

Richie doesn't know what to say and stays silent as Eddie rummages through his own hair in frustration.

"After years of trying, when I got old enough to move away from my mom," Eddie sighs and lowers his hands. He fiddles with his fingers. "I left Derry."

"And you forgot everything," Richie states.

Eddie nods. "I didn't want to forget but after waiting even more in the city— I eventually did."

"It's not your fault," Richie assures breathlessly.

Instead of acknowledging Richie's words, Eddie looks away. "It was all fucked up, Rich. When I came back here, I realized that Myra is a carbon copy of my mom. And— God, how do I say this?"

Somehow, Richie braces himself. There's something about the way Richie inhales that makes him think something big was about to be dropped on him.

"It's insane," Eddie whispered with a hand on his face. "It's only been about a day but I remembered everything. I remembered how— how much I was hopelessly in love with you."

Eddie looks up with a flushed face. Richie still doesn't know what to say.

"Even before you left, I was waiting," Eddie's tone has a sudden trace of confidence in it. "I— wished for you to give me a sign, if you felt the same way for me too."

Richie's mind goes blank.

"And that's honestly so damn ridiculous," Eddie laughs dryly and shakes his head. "I never told you how I felt and yet I expected so much from you. So when you kissed me that day—"

Eddie stops when Richie kisses him. Richie pulls away and laughs at the stunned expression on the other's face.

"Idiots," Richie breathes. "We're both idiots."

Richie brushes away a bit of Eddie's fringe off his face. He laughs again at how he's just sitting there, frozen, with beet red cheeks.

"Don't act like this is the first time we've kissed, Eds," Richie chuckles. "You were pretty brave down there, giving me a little peck in the midst of all that."

"Shut up," Eddie grumbles into his palms.

Richie cooes and pokes Eddie's cheek. "Look at you, all embarrassed."

"Stop!," Eddie wails, the redness of his cheeks reaching his ears.

A hearty laugh escapes Richie's lips. He shakes his head and leans back on his seat. "In all seriousness, I've kinda— thought of you as more than a friend for as long as I remember."

There's a thick silence in the air. Richie stares at Eddie and waits for his answer. Eddie gives him a strange look, eyes blank. If Stan was here, he'd definitely break the ice.

"Fuck, Eds," Richie runs a hand through his hair. "You're killing me here. Don't stare at me like that."

Eddie cracks a small grin. "I should have never left Derry."

Richie leans forward in worry when Eddie's eyes well up with tears. His next words came with haste.

"Eds, it's okay," Richie holds Eddie's shoulders. "You waited so long for me. It was my fault that I never came back for you."

"No. It's that fucking clown's fault," Eddie weeps and curls his fists over his eyes. "Because of him, I forgot you— and how much I love you."

_Oh shit_. It was honestly difficult for Richie to deal with the way his heart was skipping beats in his chest. For some reason, a newfound bravery is lit inside him.

Richie leans forward until his forehead presses against Eddie's. "Well, that fucking clown is dead. There's nothing in between us now."

"Yeah," Eddie sniffles. "Nothing."

After feeling each other's warmth for a few seconds, Richie leans to kiss Eddie deeply. Eddie claws at his hair.

It feels like heaven. Richie sees their hammock kiss from twenty seven years ago. It's the same— the feelings, the passion. Eddie is quiet. He's tasting him.

Richie almost gives in to the thoughts of taking Eddie right then and there. But this is a hospital and now even someone as fucked up as him would do that here.

Eddie pulls back to breathe and mumbles in a small whisper. Richie's eyes snap open and he smirks through the kiss.

"What did you say, Eds?," Richie leans away and cups his ear. "Didn't hear you there."

It takes a few seconds of Eddie's cheeks flushing until he speaks again. The words are still said in low whispers.

"Say that again?," Richie teases with a grin.

Eddie puffs his cheeks and balls his fists. He screams as his ears turn as red as his face.

"I love you, Richie Tozier!"

Richie laughs and feels the heat rush to his face. He almost dives back into a kiss when he notices the horrified look on Eddie's face. Confused, he follows his grin.

At the doorway, Myra stood. Richie was right— she looks ten times Eddie's size. The weird side of his brain imagined those two sharing a bed and he had to hold in his laughter.

Richie's smile fades when the reality hits him. Myra is Eddie's wife. The clown is gone but there's a fucking wife in the way.

"_Oh shit_," Eddie hisses audibly.

"We tried to stop her!," Mikey calls from behind Myra. "Sorry guys!"

"Eddie!," Myra screams and charges forward. "My baby!"

Richie grits his teeth. He stands in front of Eddie with both arms outstretched. Myra pauses and looks at him with scrunched eyebrows. All the losers watch silently from the doorway.

"Eds is injured," Richie says with squinted eyes. "He needs rest."

Myra raises a brow. "Don't talk about my husband to me like that."

Defeated, Richie steps away as the word _husband_ rings in his head. Eddie looks at him pleadingly and Richie watches with a heavy heart as Myra crushes him in her huge figure.

"Oh, uh, hey sweetie," Eddie speaks as if the words are sour in his mouth. "What are you doing here?"

"The hospital called me!," Myra exclaims and squishes both of Eddie's cheeks. "Are you okay, baby? Look what happened to you."

Eddie glances at Richie through the corner of his eye but looks back at Myra. "I'm— I'm fine."

"We're leaving," Myra announces suddenly. "This town only brought us trouble."

Richie stares. He wants to protest, to say that he isn't going to let Eddie out of his sight again— but did he have to right to say that to Eddie's wife of all people?

"I haven't been discharged yet," Eddie hisses a little.

"So? I'll discharge you myself," Myra snaps and glares at the losers. "Look at what you've done to my baby. You vermins better feel sorry for yourselves."

None of the losers say anything but Richie speaks up. "We'd never hurt Eddie."

"If that was true, Eddie wouldn't be in a hospital bed," Myra spits. "Let's go, baby."

"No."

There's a silence as everyone glances at Eddie. His fists tremble as he grips the sheets tightly. Richie stares and recognizes the way his jaw clenches.

Myra tilts her head, grip on Eddie tight. "Don't you want to go home? I'll make you the meatloaf you love so much—"

"I never liked your fucking meatloaf!," Eddie screams suddenly.

Myra gasps. Her expression turns wry for a few seconds but she soon puts on a smile. "You're just sick, baby. Have you skipped your medication again?"

There's a sour taste in Richie's mouth. The sight is all too familiar. He can still see twelve year old Eddie with that little fanny pack strapped across his chest.

"Don't skip your medication, Eddie," Myra says. "You know how fra—"

"My medication?," Eddie laughs dryly and shakes his head. "That's bullshit! God damn _placebos_!"

Richie has the urge to cheer Eddie on but he decides to watch silently from the sidelines. Myra is confused, it's obvious in the way her features contort.

"What are you talking about?," Myra asks with a not so subtle tone of panic.

"I'm not sick. I've never been sick," Eddie's jaw trembles as he glares up at Myra. "That's what you and my mom always made me think but I'm not! I'm perfectly healthy! I don't need pills and inhalers!"

Myra doesn't say anything. Richie and the other losers watch silently.

"You know why I married you Myra? I thought I couldn't take care of myself— that I needed someone to control me. And since you were so willing to handle every little thing I do I said why not? But now that I remember everything, now that I have Richie again, I don't give a fuck anymore! I am fully capable of taking care of myself! I'm a forty year old man and I don't need you to treat my like a god damn infant child!"

"That's right, Eddie!," Bev cheers from the doorway. "Go off!"

Myra looks away from Eddie and faces Richie, who merely gives her an eyebrow raise. She walks toward him with dark eyes.

"You," Myra grits with trembling fists. "What did you to my baby, you—"

Eddie tugs at Myra's skirt and makes her pause. "Richie didn't do shit. It's not his fault that I'm in love with him."

The losers gasp. Richie cracks a grin. Myra's eye twitches. "What did you just say?"

"You heard me," Eddie crosses his arms over his chest and huffs. "I, Eddie Kaspbrak, am in love with Richie Tozier. Deal with it, _bitch_."

"Deal with it? Deal with it?!," Myra explodes and points to the ring in her finger. "I am your _wife_! You should love _me_ and nobody else!"

Eddie sighs. He stares down at the shiny silver ring in his hands for a bit. Richie wonders what's in his mind then his eyes widen when Eddie casually takes the ring off and throws it at Myra.

"Not anymore," Eddie shrugs nonchalantly. "You did want a divorce, didn't you?"

Myra huffs as her face reddens. Her expression is telling and Richie knows that she wants to say something. But everyone in the room is against her, all the glares right at her.

So Myra leaves without a fight and takes Eddie's ring with her. The tension in the air lifts the moment she's gone.

"Wow," Richie says a bit breathlessly. "Just... _wow_, Eddie, that was— that was really hot. Dang, I might be hard right now—"

"Beep beep, Richie," Bill says from the doorway.

Everyone laughs. Richie is glad to see a genuine smile on Eddie's face. "Seriously Eds, quite a speech you made there."

Eddie shrugs. "Always wanted to do that."

"Well, now that's over, we'll be outside," Ben grins and shoves everyone outside the room. "You two just be lovey-dovey for as long as you like."

The doors slams and both Richie and Eddie laugh. All the losers are peering in through the little window on the door.

A silence passes again. Richie observes Eddie and notes how he's staring at his now empty ring finger almost solemnly. His palms sweat and he rubs his hands together awkwardly.

Richie grins and dives in. He pins Eddie to the bed and laughs at how he squeals underneath him. "Now where were we before Myra interrupted us?"

Eddie's frown fades into a smile. "You're disgusting, you know that?"

"I know," Richie pecks the tip of Eddie's nose. He then reaches down to grab one of his hands.

"What are you doing?," Eddie asks with scrunched eyebrows.

Eddie's palms are soft against Richie's fingers. "I always loved your small hands, you know that?"

Although Eddie doesn't reply, the way his cheeks flush is telling. Richie tugs on his fingers and laughs when he compares them with his. Whilst Eddie bickers with him, he notices the tan line on the finger that previously carried Myra's wedding ring.

"You got a tan line," Richie blurts.

Eddie glances down at his ring finger. "Oh. Myra never wanted me to take it off so..."

"This won't do," Richie says the first thoughts that pop in his head. "We'll have to do something about this."

"What do you mean?," Eddie tilts his head. "Richie?"

Richie takes a deep breath. He fixes his gaze at Eddie, who isn't even hiding how much he was blushing. Their lips are inches apart.

"Eds, my best bud, the love of my life," Richie recites in a whisper. "If I asked you to marry me, would you say yes?"

There's another silence and Richie observes the way Eddie loses himself in his own thoughts. Cute little fucker with those red cheeks.

"Huh?," Eddie sounds like a frog with the way he croaks.

Richie laughs. "I'm asking you to marry me. What's it going to be? Want to be my roommate for life?"

A weird squeak leaves Eddie's lips as he covers his own eyes. "Holy shit, Rich. _Holy shit_."

"What? Don't want to be my roommate?," Richie pouts. "Fine, not roomies then, what do you want us to be? Fuck buddies in an official relationship? Chaotic gay husbands? Or maybe even slu—"

"Beep fucking beep, Richie," Eddie grumbles into his hands.

There's a dumb smile on Eddie's face that is more than satisfying for Richie. Really, asking for Eddie's hand in marriage after what just transpired is a douchebag move— but it is a thought that lingers at the back of his mind.

Just when Richie is about to announce that it's a joke, Eddie speaks up. "I have to file the divorce papers first."

"What?," It's Richie's turn to croak.

"I can't marry you while I'm still legally attached to Myra," Eddie mumbles almost incoherently. "After the divorce is settled, then maybe..."

Richie's mind shuts down and he sees white. _Eddie agreed to marry him. Eddie Kaspbrak. His husband. Eddie Tozier?_

"Hey," Eddie peaks between his little fingers. "Why are you looking at me like that? You're the one who asked!"

"It was a joke!," Richie exclaims in slight panic.

"You dipshit! Why would you joke about that?!"

"I wanted to cheer you up!"

"Idiot," Eddie fumes. "Don't ask me things like that so casually."

"Holy shit, man," Richie exclaim in realization. "So you really were going to say yes?"

Eddie puffs his cheeks. Richie thinks the soft skin is distracting and concludes that the best solution is to pinch them. He reaches down to do so until Eddie looks away.

"Why wouldn't I say yes?," Eddie grumbles. "I've been in love with you for God knows how long."

"So you've been waiting for me to pop the question all this time?" Richie laughs and gives Eddie's nose a little boop. "God, you're so cute. I've always thought you were, Eds."

"Shut up and kiss me, dipshit."

Eddie pulls Richie into a kiss. They giggle on each other's lips and try to limit their movements due to Eddie's injuries. Still, Richie thinks he's in heaven.

~

Richie doesn't remember last night's dream but he knows it's about that day. It's still strange, how none forgot everything that happened even after leaving Derry. Still, he thinks something good still came out of the ordeal.

Eddie is asleep next to him. He looks peaceful in the way he snores lightly. Richie fails to resist and pinches one of his cheeks.

A light groan escapes Eddie's lips but he doesn't wake up. Richie laughs and glances at the alarm clock. It's way too early for either of them to be up.

Richie silently moves the duvets off him and carefully steps off the bed. He pauses when he feels Eddie pull at the hem of his shirt.

"Where are you going?," Eddie mumbles, his eyes half mast.

"Good morning to you too, Mister Eddie Tozier," Richie replies with a grin.

Eddie groans again and yawns loudly. He tugs on Richie's shirt again. "Go back to bed. I want to cuddle."

_Cute_. Richie coos at the way Eddie demands cuddles and crawls back into bed. Eddie immediately wraps his arms around Richie's waist and buries his face into the crook of his neck.

If Richie were to be truthful, he still thinks all this is an illusion. He still finds the name _Eddie Tozier_ so endearing. It was so difficult to wrap his head around the fact that the love of his life is now his husband.

Richie quietly strokes Eddie's hair. "Hey Eds, do you still remember the day we first met?"

There's a reply from Eddie that sounds like a low growl. "Derry Park, was with my mom."

"Mhm," Richie nods. "Did I ever tell you that I fell for you at first sight without knowing?"

Eddie blinks and looks up at Richie. He can barely open his eyes. "What was so good about me back then?"

A lot of thoughts enter Richie's mind at the question and it almost overwhelms his brain. He hears Eddie laugh at the back of his mind, sees his big toothed smile, feels his soft palms against his skin.

"Everything," Richie decides to say. "I love everything about you."

"It's too early for your sappiness," Eddie laughs lightly. "Go back to sleep."

Richie pokes Eddie's cheek and earns a groan of complaint from him. "Tomorrow's our anniversary. What do you want to do?"

Eddie hums. "A dog."

"You want to do a dog? That's nasty."

"No, you’re disgusting as fuck. I mean let’s adopt a dog."

“Huh,” Richie exclaims. “As long as it isn’t a Pomeranian, it’ll be fine.”

Eddie shivers him. “Don’t remind me.”

Richie laughs and stares at Eddie for a moment. This whole thing is still nostalgic. Having the love of his life laying next to him in their own little house— it was a dream that seemed so far away long ago.

“Hey, Eds,” Richie whispers and pokes Eddie’s cheek. “Eds. Eds.”

“What,” Eddie grumbles, half-asleep.

“I love you, Mama’s boy,” Richie says.

“I know, dipshit,” Eddie sneers. “Now go to sleep.”

Richie smiles and wraps his arms around Eddie. He closes his eyes and hears Eddie hum against his chest.

Nothing can be better than this.

**Author's Note:**

> Just for more feels, they name the dog Stan


End file.
